


Site-69

by yawf_writes



Category: SCP Foundation
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad French, F/F, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Multiple Partners, Oral Sex, Sex with Sentient Animals, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:35:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28142487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yawf_writes/pseuds/yawf_writes
Summary: A very horny anomaly breaks out in Site-69, striking both staff and SCP for some very unexpected results.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. A Detected Anomaly

**Author's Note:**

> Porting this from Pastebin following its brutal crackdown. It will be edited at a later date (Lord knows it needs it).
> 
> All human characters are 18+, and all non-human characters are of sexual maturity, and have the mental capacity and development necessary for consent.

Something was very, very wrong with Site-69.

Researcher Katherine Barrett wasn't new to the anomalous, but whatever was happening here was throwing her for a loop. She first caught wind of trouble when she was transferred to help handle the three SCP-939 instances while their usual containment chambers were being overhauled. As a diligent member of the Foundation, she did her homework and read the dossier on these anomalies, but that one word struck her as odd, far too odd to be a simple clerical error.

She looked down at the copy that she placed at the top of her clipboard as she strolled to SCP-939's containment chamber.

"...Each of their four limbs end in three-fingered claws with a fourth, opposable digit, and are covered in setae which considerably augment climbing ability. Their heads are elongated, devoid of even vestigial eyes or eye sockets, and contain no brain casing. Horny. The jaws of SCP-939 are lined with red, faintly luminescent fang-like teeth, similar to those belonging to specimens of the genus Chauliodus, up to 6 cm in length..."

That ominous "Horny." When she had first read it, she simply thought of it as some sort of prank, until she had cross-referenced copies with some colleagues, each of their copies also having that "Horny" in the same spot as her's; they hadn't noticed it beforehand, and most simply laughed upon realizing it was there. Her suspicions were roused. She had raided the archives for old copies of their files. To her surprise, they had bore their very own "Horny." as well, though in different places. She was onto something. She had grabbed a highlighter, marking each time the word "Horny" appeared in any of the documents, and placed them on her clipboard. They were in different locations depending on which revision, but it was always there. Hopefully, the facility manager wouldn't mind her raid and subsequent defacing of the archived documents, nor be chewed out for handling potentially anomalous items in such a crude manner.

She had popped into her office to access her terminal for the database. One visit to SCP-939's file on the database also made mention of the creatures being "Horny". It was then that she realized that this was more than just some juvenile prank. She deduced that some sort of anomaly had infected the file, with some sort of lecherous intentions. She had sent a priority email to the Site Safety Board, stating a rogue anomaly was on the loose and that Site-69 needed to be put on lockdown. However, as she found herself in front of SCP-939's chamber doors, she realized her email fell on blind eyes, as the rest of the facility was going about their business as usual. She noticed on the table that a stack of dossiers for SCP-939, freshly-printed, was present, each of them with the "Horny" anomaly in the same place as her document as she lay her clipboard on the table. Whatever this anomaly was, SCP-939 was at the center of it; she had to prevent them from getting out.

 _Think, Kathy, think!_ she demanded of herself as she twirled her long brown hair, considering the possibilities. Flood their chamber with sedatives? It would be a decent band-aid, but there was the chance the anomaly would be able to bypass it. _It's better than nothing,_ she reasoned as she invaded Dr. Malory's office, working her keycard out from --

She began to feel very hot, as if a heat wave rippled across the facility, and she was stopped in her tracks. She took off her lab coat, casually tossing it on the floor, still standing in front of the office door. She felt no cooler, and in fact felt even warmer than before. Where was this heat coming from? She found herself turning away from Dr Malory's office and moving towards the containment chamber door. She felt warmer with every step, the heat now feeling inviting. She tossed off her blouse, exposing her bra and bare chest. Why did she do that? She had already deduced that stripping wasn't an effective means to cool down, and was mostly just making a fool of --

She then realized she was being affected by the anomaly as well. That heat was inside of her; she was horny. She wondered how many people were exposed to the agent. The entire facility was likely compromised, and was about to be turned into an all-you-can-eat buffet for a bunch of Keter-classes. She did her best to minimize exposing anyone else to the documents, but she wasn't the only one that had access to it either; she was the only one that noticed it, and she began to kick herself mentally for not reporting it sooner. As much as staff may loathe the Foundation's culture of paranoia, this would have been one time where a bit more paranoia could have stopped (or at the very least mitigated --

She reached into her pants to pull out her keycard. She couldn't stop herself. She really didn't want to stop herself; she was much too hot. Upon finally getting out her keycard, she threw off her pants, now wearing only her panties and bra. She felt a growing sense of freedom. What remained of her analytical self was fighting tooth-and-nail to regain control of her body, but she knew it was futile. _This is how I die; eaten to death due to a sex-crazed mind virus,_ she presumed. As far as she knew, SC-939 preferred to quickly kill their prey, so she wasn't going to suffer for long. There were definitely worse ways to die in -- She held her keycard in front of the chamber door, which promptly opened (it made no sense; she lacked level 4 clearance, yet it opened anyway; she was in no position to question it, however). The blast of cool, environmentally-regulated air did little to assuage her warmness. She strolled into the chamber, slipping out of her shoes to feel the concrete beneath her feet. The three SCP-939 instances cocked their heads up, watching her. Two began to approach her, while one crept out behind her through the chamber door. She recognized them from her studies: SCP-939-53, with a well-built back and darker coloring, and SCP-939-19, an old grizzled instance with pearly-white teeth and impressive demeanor. Despite circling her, their stance was incredibly calm and almost welcoming, and Katherine felt completely normal, their self-produced amnestic either absent or not affecting her.

Finally, one of them spoke.

"Oh, thank God, you gotta help us!" -53 implored, speaking with a northwestern accent.

* * *

Needless to say, Katherine was quite confused.

"What seems to be the problem?" she asked politely, more polite than someone wearing only their undergarments in a monsters' den should ask. She had no idea why she was being so friendly to these carnivorous beasts that were surely just toying with her, but some part of her wanted to hear their case.

-53 turned its head to -19, prompting it to explain. "So, we were just lounging around, y'know, the same old routine you Foundation tools like watching us do, when all of a sudden we got hit with a real nasty heat," it recounted, speaking with a Boston-influenced accent. "Not just hot heat, but 'need to breed' heat; -99 felt it too, I could definitely smell it on her. We were about to get busy before you opened the door," it continued.

Katherine felt a fleshy mass bump her rear end, reaching into her nethers. She looked down to see -53's sniffing her genitals from behind, which caused her to notice just how wet she was; her vagina was practically drooling, which caught the attention and nose of -53. Despite an increase in self-awareness, she felt no embarrassment; in fact, she started to feel warmer. "

Ain't just us in the mood to rut, huh?" -53 teased. savoring the scent of her arousal.

"No, and I don't know how many else got affected," Katherine responded clinically, if only to try and reclaim what was left of her sanity. "Chances are, we might have a real fiesta on our hands." Her response got a laugh out of -53, who was likely having a hard time restraining itself from burying its snout in her. -19 made a throat-clearing sound to get Katherine's attention.

"So, uh, listen, and I'm aware that this is an awkward request, but bear with me," it requested with a bit of an awkward tone.

"Shoot," Katherine replied automatically. "So, I was thinking, maybe we could help each other with this mutual problem that we have going on, and afterwards, uh, see what's happened to the site?" it petitioned. _This is insane, this is fucking insane,_ she noted. She then looked down at -19's groin, and saw its large scarlet cock extending outwards. It was definitely exotic, being veiny and having an oddly-shaped tip, but its size and girth were too tempting to pass up in her current state of mind; she just had to have it. Consequences be damned, she needed to cum.

"Please," she found herself saying.

Like a flipped switch, -53 worked a fang into her soaked white panties, ripping them off with one pull. As -19 approached, she pulled the strap from her bra, dropping it on the floor, now fully-nude. -53's tongue made its first tastes of her pussy, lapping up every fold of her labia, its saliva running down her thighs. Its tongue felt like heaven, a lathering of sin and pleasure that felt a hundred years in the making. Meanwhile, -19 buried its face in her C-cup breasts, feeling her smooth skin with its tongue. Katherine crouched down, stretching an arm out in order to grab its penis. The powerful member throbbed heartily under her grasp, the size of it becoming clear as she was just barely able get her hand around it. She began to jerk it off, exciting -19 as it slathered her nipples, sending tingles down her spine that were further reinforced by the bestial tongue feasting on honeypot.

What was left of Katherine's rational mind made note of how sensual everything felt; even the errant lick of -19 that would go up to her chin felt carnal and intimate. "Fuck, your hands are soft," -19 remarked between licks. It was clearly loving her simple handjob; she deduced that the SCPs were likely experiencing the same exaggerated sense of touch. After all, they have identical DNA, so it would make sense that --

She wanted more. -53's cunnilingus was pleasing, but she needed more.

"You ready for the main course, baby?" -53 asked, switching its voice to that of a suave radioman. It, too, needed more, and the cute whines -19 made showed it was ready to keep this train moving. She stood up, moved over to the side a bit, and got on all-fours, presenting her privates to the horny beasts. -19 moved behind her, standing next to -53, admiring her private parts.

"Which holes are you taking, boys?" she purred. They were having a hard time deciding. She could overhear them debating with each-other over hole they wanted, despite their best attempts for their juvenile argument to go unheard. She cleared her throat in order to get their attention.

"Am I gonna have to pick for you two, or am I gonna have to please myself?" she teased.

The two glanced at each-other before they made up their minds. -53 moved to her front and rolled over on its back, its impressive cock fully-erect. She crawled over its chest as it rubbed the walls of its shaft on her pussy lips. -19 walked over and stood over her, pressing the tip of its penis on her rosebud, sending a shiver up her spine as the neglected hole got ready for penetration. Their teasing was driving her mad; each rub and tap by them was reciprocated with her pushing her ass back on the beastly meats, begging for them to put them in.

Slowly, -19 made the first plunge, pushing its member into her ass, -53 following suit, delving into her cunt with its rod. She gasped as they plunged deep into her. Even with the lack of lubricant, her orifices quickly stretched to accommodate the massive shafts, yet she was still more than tight enough to feel every detail of their cocks. Their throbbing members felt intense within her, the pulsing of their veins causing her entire body to tingle with lust. The lust-soaked moans they made illustrated clearly their satisfaction. The room was beginning to feel unbearably hot.

What was she afraid of before? This was amazing.

-53 hilted itself first, and began thrusting at a steady pace. Her love tunnel was flooded with the profound feeling of utter satisfaction as -53's rod explored her. That feeling spread throughout her as -19 finally worked its huge cock into her rectum, beginning its own steady thrusting.

Her ass shook with each dive it took, her rectum walls tingling salaciously at the smooth, veiny texture rubbing upon it. She tried to speak, but all the sounds she could make were moans and panting. This was just too hot, sandwiched between two powerful beasts; it was a fantasy she didn't even know she had until now, their burly cocks working her holes, servicing both her lust and theirs. -53 was fully spread-out on the ground, tongue hanging out of its jaw, simply relishing in her pussy. -19, having to stand, was a bit more aware, but it too was struggling to focus on anything other than fucking.

They picked up the pace. The ecstasy was getting to them, their civilized veneers rapidly failing them as their primal instincts took full control. -53, lost in the sea of euphoria, was the first to start pounding, ramming its knob into her before quickly pulling back. -19 quickly matched its pace, and established a vigorous rhythm in its fucking. The stench of sex permeated throughout the air, the salacious incense causing them to get even higher and go even faster.

Katherine was overwhelmed by their dogged tempo. Her g-spot was exploding with pleasure, and she could feel a primordial sensation building deep in her core. She had very little time to prepare for what was to come next.

Without warning, a tsunami of bliss surged through her body. A single load moan escaped her as another wave cascaded throughout her entire body. She couldn't control herself; she buried her face into -53's neck, digging her hands into its firm yet soft flesh, squeezing it tightly, holding on to whatever she could to ride it out. Surge after surge of ecstasy swelled into every fiber of her being. She shut her eyes tight, awash with this strange, powerful, immensely-satisfying event. After what felt like an hour, the last pulse rippled through her, yet the pounding rods remained, and she dove back into the euphoria, just moments after cumming.

"Not--hnng--gonna hold out much--longer, 'specially after that," -53 softly quipped into her ear, its words disjointed due to the frenzied atmosphere. The idea of being bred by these beasts stuck like glue in her mind; just the thought of it was driving her wild.

"You getting close, -19?" she managed to ask it between gasps of pleasure. "Real close," -19 responded, its voice equally awash with lust. Oh yeah, it was going to happen, in both holes no less. She needed this. She needed this too much. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck," -53 repeatedly muttered. It was at the precipice. Katherine took it upon herself to force them over. "Cum for me, pups!" she barked, her fantasy about to become reality.

At her command, they made their final thrusts as they erupted inside of her, the three of them moaning in harmony. She felt an indescribable bliss as they fired their load deep into her, the pulsing of their shafts magnifying tenfold with every spurt of their seed. She could feel their loads overflowing her holes, spilling out back onto them, running down her taint, mixing together on her meatflaps before pooling on the floor. This was perfection. Slowly, she crawled off of their rods as they pulled out just as slowly. Each relishing millimeter of movement caused a bit of cum to escape from her tunnels. When at last their members were removed, two torrents of thick cum gushed from her, draining out onto the ground (as well as -53's nethers). It was so much cum, each of their loads feeling more akin to a cum enema than a creampie.

Their time in paradise was over, at least for now, and the three lay stretched out on the concrete, sullied with seed and coitus.

* * *

All three of them were breathing heavily as they lay on the floor, huddled together as a cum-soaked mass. They all had experienced the most intense orgasms of their lives; aphrodisiac anomaly or not, at least a bit of rest was needed afterwards. The heat died down significantly, though the creatures she was cuddling with were very warm to the touch.

"That was fucking amazing, holy shit," Katherine chirped.

"I had no idea I wanted that," -53 professed, still panting and laying in much the same position as when it was pounding her, its half-erect cock and pelvis area stained white with cum.

"That makes two of us," she concurred.

"Three, actually," -19 chimed in, licking her back as a token of affection and satisfaction. Its tongue still felt wonderful, sending a tingling feeling through her spine and down towards her genitals. A small part of her wanted seconds, the heat returning... until she remembered her circumstances. What about the rest of the facility? Sex with them was amazing, sure, but she knew she most likely not the only one affected by whatever anomaly drove her and the 939s into rut, but if she was...

Well, she'd cross that bridge if she came to it. She had no regrets; even in conjured fantasies of being chewed out by the O5 Council, the sting of shame was absent.

She realized was getting ahead of herself; the state of Site-69 was still unknown, and even in her horny state she wanted to find out what was going on.

"So..." Katherine intoned, getting the -939 instances' attention.

"Up for seconds, hon?" -53 joked, using its radioman voice. The three of them burst out into laughter, the sincere request buried within not lost on any of them. Once more the room became a little bit hotter.

"I'd love to, but no," she declined. "We still gotta find out what happened to the site."

-19 jumped to all-fours, now standing over the other two. "Oh yeah," it remarked. "You mentioned something about a 'fiesta'; I'm down to head out and see what's happening."

Katherine and -53 slowly stood back up. Katherine noted how normal she felt after having just been pummeled by two beastly cocks, lacking a single sore muscle anywhere in her body.

She looked out of the chamber to see her clothes, stripped hastily in the midst of sudden heat. She felt no desire to put her clothes back on; she was comfortable, nay, excited at the prospect of walking around naked, proudly displaying her nethers and nude body, both soiled with bestial jism. Regardless of the circumstances, she was certainly going to be doped with amnestics to kingdom come when this was all over, so she may as well make the most of it with some exhibitionism.

She felt a tongue briefly glide across her pussy. She looked back to see -53's face toward her genitals, its tongue lathered with seed.

"Sorry, just needed one last taste," it admitted.

"You're tasting yourself more than me," she retorted, with it producing a laugh of confession. "So, shall we get going?" she asked.

The two 939 instances nodded, and they strolled out of the chamber, Katherine guiding them through the facility. With each step, she could feel a little bit of their cum drip from her innards. It was a great feeling.


	2. Savory Jail Break

It was just a few weeks ago when Coyote was at the top of the world. He was everywhere in humanity's stories again, he was growing his pack, and there were plenty of people inspired to get intimate with him; life was good... until he collapsed in the middle of a sermon and found himself in a cell, captured by the "Foundation" that had been keeping track of him for quite a long time. He was a god turned prisoner, fate having decided on making a mockery of him. At least they let him keep what few apparels he had.

He was sitting on his metal bed, contemplating about nothing when, out of the blue, a powerful heat radiated through him. He remembered feeling this kind of heat once before: way back when, in the days when he was still worshiped, he lost a bet with Wolf and had to spend fifty years without laying with another creature; that needy fire burned within every fiber of his being during that half-century, an ever-present distraction messing with his mind. It was a feeling that he never thought he would experience again, and stranger still be one-upped by this newfound fire. He stood up from the metal bed that he was sitting on. He lightly touched his sheath, only for his entire body to tingle with neediness.

This was not mere horniness; this was an abject need for sex.

  
His cell door opened. He looked to the entryway to see the scientists "assigned" to him, Dr. Hazel McKinley ( _Humans have very strange names nowadays,_ he mused when he first met her), standing there and watching him. She bore a very strange smell, an inviting one. 

  
"Greetings, Doctor," he addressed her calmly. She wasn't with any guards, which struck him as odd. "What seems to be the problem?" he inquired. 

  
"Sit." she demanded. He could see a glint in her eyes, as if someone else has taken control of her.

  
"Pardon?"

  
"I said sit." she repeated with a subtle growl.

  
Caving to her demands, he sat back down on the bed. To his surprise, Hazel approached him.

  
"I've heard you've been a naughty dog," she said in a seductive tone. Coyote then recognized the smell on her; it was lust. She wanted him. He would be questioning this situation, but his desire to fuck was too great.

  
"Well, I happen to like bad boys, especially when I get to punish them, hmm?" she intonated. She placed her hands around Coyote's sheath. Her silken touch was incredible. He his penis quickly extended outwards, all seven inches of his canine cock exposed for her. She moved a hand onto it as she began to jerk him off, moving her other hand down to his testes, rubbing them gently. Even her mere fondling flooded his mind with euphoria. It was too hot in here; he took off his jacket, tossing it into the back corner of the room.

  
"You've got good equipment here, pup," she smirked. "I wonder how it tastes..."

  
Hazel drove her mouth down on his shaft. A hearty moan left Coyote as she circled her smooth tongue around, tasting every part of him. A few seconds later, she moved her mouth off, his saliva-coated cock squirming and begging for more.

  
"Exquisite," she noted. Following her brief judgment, she moved his cock back into her kisser, restarting the blowjob. There was no doubt in his mind: this was the best head he had ever gotten. A look into her eyes revealed that she was loving it as well; she was hungry, hungry for sex and excitement. She noted she was a bit overdressed as she stripped off her pants, exposing the undergarments beneath. She was soaked, her pussy was dripping with urgency for lovemaking. 

  
"Need some help with that?" Coyote prompted. He unbuttoned her lab coat, working it off of her. He began to feel her large breasts, so soft and velvety under his paws. She then started deepthroating, managing his knot into her mouth, now working every inch of his shaft with her tongue. The pleasure was incredible, and he could feel precum escaping from his scarlet canine rod.

  
Suddenly, she stopped, dropping her cock from its mouth, the member twitching with anticipation. She took off her shirt and dropped her bra on the floor, letting her breasts hang out. She lay back on the metal bed next to him, soaked panties the only thing she was wearing. He stood up and moved in front of her.

  
"Well?" she remarked. She was waiting on him. He took his glasses off in order to fully-strip as she interrupted: "No, no, leave the shades on, you look too sexy in them," she requested, the tone of her voice becoming soft and pleasant on the ears, a brief return to her usual self.

"Yes, ma'am," he smirked, readjusting them.

  
He moved forward slowly, feeling her cushioned butt for a moment as he stripped off her panties. Her pussy was something to behold as it was exposed before him, so pristine and so ready to be defiled. He was so going to pilfer it. He didn't even bother teasing her; upon positioning the tapered head of his crimson member, he shoved it in with one thrust into her cunny. It was like plunging into a pool of undiluted pleasure, every morsel of him awash with ecstasy.

  
"Oh fuck!" she blared during insertion. He began to fuck her, her breasts bouncing with each thrust in and out. He soon found himself panting, stimulated by the atmosphere and the pleasure. The satin snatch that he was in was inciting him to go faster, harder, ravage every inch of her. She abruptly kissed him; their tongues, though so very different, shared a mutual, intimate dance.

  
A knock was heard from inside the metal room, catching them off-guard and breaking their kiss. In the doorway stood a man with dark brown hair, wearing nothing but cargo pants, their coloring matching that of a guard's.

"Hey, Hazel," he acquainted himself.

  
"Hey -- Taylor," she replied, enjoying the challenge of trying to hold a conversation while being banged by someone.

  
"So, uh, you mind if I join in? Feelin' pent-up over here," Taylor inquired nonchalantly. 

  
"Of course," she replied. She placed both of her hands on Coyote's hindquarters. "I've got a nice coyote ass right here for ya," she went on, presenting his tight hole for Taylor. It was an unexpected turn of events, one that broke him from his pounding trance. A new flower of arousal bloomed in his core.

  
"Excellent," he said, moving behind him, quickly removing his trousers and briefs. Taylor grasped Coyote hips as he pressed the tip of his member on his anus. Taylor shoved it all in with one mighty thrust, he and Taylor moaning in unison. It had been too long since he was on the receiving end. Most humans preferred catching in his presence, but fuck being penetrated was such a nice treat.

  
The three of them began rocking and fucking once more. Coyote found it difficult to both stuff Hazel and be stuffed by Taylor, overflowing with pleasure on all sides. Taylor's rod rubbed on his prostate in all the right ways, and the doctor's coochie was pure bliss to be inside. He felt spoiled. He needed this. Something was building inside, a need for release.

"Getting close," Coyote shouted. He was going to fill her regardless of circumstances, but he wished to give prior warning.

  
"Leave it--in, stud!" Hazel commanded, awash with lust. He was back in his sermons, humans lined up to receive his communion, screaming his name as he fucked them. He quickly tossed out those memories; this was better than that.

  
He thrust his knot into her with a mighty lunge, locking the two of them as his floodgates opened, white-hot seed flowing deep into her womb. It felt even better with Taylor's cock in his backdoor, still energetically fucking him as he came. Hazel screamed with pleasure as she was brought to her own orgasm as well, encouraged by the massive cream filling she was experiencing. The knotty lock didn't hold for long; she crawled off of him and rolled over, laying on her stomach, watching Taylor go to town on Coyote as she savored his outpouring cum, further sullying her nethers in the meantime with some sensual rubbing.

  
"He's all yours, Taylor!" she declared. He turned his head, smiled, and turned back to Coyote. Without warning, he pushed him down onto the bed, bending him over it as his fucking turned into pummeling.  
Being handled so indiscriminately felt amazing, and his cock began to twitch again, stimulated by this degrading, empowering whorishness. With each full thrust in, Taylor's member felt a little bit larger. Coyote's entire body was tingling. It was so hot. He was panting uncontrollably, drooling on the bed. He came again, ropes of his seed firing from his shaft, painting the floor beneath them white. This was way better than his usual trades.  
"Hope you're ready, pup," Taylor grunted. He was about to cum. 

  
"Breed me!" Coyote found himself shouting. Inspired, Taylor made one last final thrust as he erupted. His massive load was something to behold, his semen so hot and so at home inside Coyote's rectum. Taylor, having fired his final few ropes, pulled back slowly. His cock escaped Coyote's glazed keister with a satisfying pop, semen drooling down his taint. Hazel stuck a finger in his ass, covering it in Taylor's seed before pushing it into Coyote's mouth. He greedily lapped up the ambrosiac seed, savoring the taste as it rolled over his tongue. A wave of exhaustion crashed into him, and he lay back on the metal floor.

* * *

Taylor and Coyote were sitting back, panting, having exerted themselves a great deal. As for Dr. Hazel, she was still relatively intact. She stood up and performed a small stretch, her vagina dripping some cum in the process.

  
"What's your plan for today, Hazel?" Taylor asked her.

  
She shrugged. "I'm sure there's plenty of others to please in the facility," she remarked. "You two take thirty; we'll meet up in the cafeteria," she stated.

  
_Thirty minutes with this stud..._ Coyote thought. The idea wasn't too bad. A surge of energy rippled through him as his cock came back out from his sheath. Taylor was of the same mind as climbed on top of him. 

  
"Be seein' you, Do -- ohhhh~" Coyote said, his farewell turning into a moan as Taylor pressed down, working Coyote's member into his tight rear end. Hazel departed with a perverted chuckle as she went to go find some more action. This was going to be a very fun thirty minutes.


	3. And Now, For Something More Caring

Patrick reread the file, a mix of confusion, concern, and excitement coursing through his veins:

"SCP-1991 is to be housed in a specially-designed containment chamber at Site-69. This chamber is 12x10x5 meters in size, and well-furnished with blankets, pillows, soundproofing, and toys that do not produce loud noises. Horny. SCP-1991 is to be kept well-fed following Nourishment Schedule 1991-G (see Addendum). Water is to be provided via a trough which is to be kept refilled constantly. Once per week, SCP-1991 is to vacate its chamber for its regularly-scheduled therapy program with Dr. Patrick Willis, during which..."

He never noticed that strange "Horny." statement, despite having been working on the revised containment procedures for well over a week by this point. There was no way he wouldn't have noticed it with how diligently he had combed through the article over a myriad of edits. _What could it entail?_ he wondered.

The past few minutes had been quite strange. He was simply refining the procedures as some strange ailment came over him. His libido shot through the roof, the erection in his pants whining for some form of release inside of someone, something. It was a strange anomaly, but not an unpleasant one; in the sea of brain melters and memetic kill agents, one that merely encouraged sex was a nice break. Expecting others to have been infected, he managed to override the anterior room door, locking himself in with SCP-1991 as people started fucking in the hallways.

His main concern was how SCP-1991 was doing. Her condition had improved significantly over the past few years: Patrick had been inspired by the likes of Dr. Huxtable and his work with SCP-5301 to take a therapeutic approach with SCP-1991, realizing she was a tortured, scarred animal that deserved care rather than being locked away in a metal box. However, from all he had seen of her, estrus was not one of them. He paid no attention to that fact until now, with her being afflicted by an anomaly that was certainly inciting her arousal. If nothing else, this would be a new insight into her behavior.

He stood just outside the chamber door. He routinely grabbed his keycard from his jeans, holding it in front of the reader. The door opened with a soft swoosh, revealing a warmly-lit and well-furnished chamber within. As Patrick scanned the room, he then saw 1991, propped up on one of the many large pillows, her left hand reaching back and rubbing her pink, sullying the pillow with her juices, trying desperately to sate her heat on her own. The sight of it grabbed his attention: he was no stranger to good pussy, but her twat was almost painterly, every single fold of her labia placed with masterful precision.

She broke her focus on masturbating, now sensing him. She quickly crawled over to Patrick, sniffing him and rubbing her head on his sides. Gosh, she was doing so well; all of her implant-derived wounds had long since healed, and her fur was wonderfully soft as she gained the will to maintain it. Though she remained on the thinner side (there was always room for improvement), she was quite healthy, no longer the emaciated hound she was before. Her treatment was difficult at the beginning, but was more than worth the initial trouble; she was incredibly friendly and lovable. 

"How ya doin', sweetie?" Patrick asked, using a soft and friendly tone as he scratched the back of her ears; she loved having her ears scratched. Her wholesome behavior didn't hold for long, however, and she began to sniff at his crotch. Patrick was then at a crossroads: as much as they both needed release, he couldn't help but note the awkwardness of it all; their connection had always been intimate and trusting (she had even trusted him enough to dull down her steel claws and fangs a couple years back), but he was her therapist at the end of the day. There was a malice underneath the veneer of love, like he was --

She began to fondle with his pants, trying to expose the fleshy member underneath. She found his belt, hastily undoing it before pulling down his trousers. She was always a quick learner. A few moments later, she found the bone she was looking for. She squeezed his rod as she used her other hand to take his underwear off. She sniffed his crotch fervently, basking in his scent as she ran a paw up and down his penis. She gave a tentative lick of it. Her soft tongue was like velour upon his meat, pre-cum starting to dribble from his tip. He placed a hand upon her breasts, fondling her soft small bosom. He could feel her heart racing from adrenaline and excitement. She kept licking the member before her, running her tongue from tip to base, admiring the taste. 

Hesitantly, Willis rubbed her coochie. It was soaked, and wonderfully soft. She made a lusty groan with just that single rub. Assured, he stuck a finger in, then two, feeling the inside of pussy. Her walls contracted, clamping down on his fingers, occasionally pulsing. She made adorable squirming noises every time he moved even a centimeter. He slowly began to draw his fingers back before pressing them back in again, getting a feel for how she would react to his rod. Her pulsing became more frequent and more spontaneous, and she started to feel even warmer inside. Without warning, however, she crawled closer towards him, moving off of his fingers, now sitting in his lap. She brushed her pussy on his cock, lathering it with her love juices. She needed it in her.

"Are you ready for this, girl?" he queried. Her sudden increase in pace with rubbing indicated agreement.  
Carefully, he gently lifted her, positioning her twat just before his tip. Slowly, he pushed her down on his shaft. SCP-1991 made a powerful, pleased yelp as the tip went in, slowly followed by the rest of his member. Willis couldn't help but moan as her silky honeypot tightened instinctively around him. When eventually his cock was fully-in, the two simply stayed there for a few moments, savoring their consummation. The squirming noises she made became more intense, more needy. She lifted herself up a bit before pressing back down, coming back tighter than before. She was ready to fuck.

Still treating her delicately, he grabbed around her chest, helping to raise her higher on his shaft and easing her back down. Her tongue dangled out of her mouth as she began to pant heavily. He began to probe higher speeds, raising the tempo ever so slowly. Every step faster, she felt warmer and tighter, reveling in the feeling. Once reaching a comfortable pace, she buried her face into his chest, wrapping her arms around him. He returned the hug, still being able to lift her as the two held one-another. He could feel her rapid heartbeats through their embrace. She was lost in the euphoria.

"Are you loving it, darling?" Willis asked rhetorically. She didn't answer, instead riding him faster on her own; she most certainly was. His arms started to become weak as ecstasy began to overtake him. Through sheer intuition, he knew she wanted to be bred; he had no intention of letting her down. Suddenly, her vagina started to throb erratically and vigorously as she breathed in sharply, clear signs as any that she was having an orgasm. Willis was jubilant at the accomplishment of getting her to cum. However, he was getting close to release as well.

"I hope you're ready for me..." he declared. He couldn't hold back any longer. Almost anticipating his orgasm, she sunk down onto his rod one final time, tightening as much as she could. At last, he climaxed, the two holding each-other tightly as he came. _This must be paradise,_ he thought as pearly cum gushed from her snatch. After almost a minute of cumming, he was finally spent as the two lay back, his member still inside of her. She licked his face a few times, causing Willis to giggle. 

Their union had taxed both of them heavily, both of them scarcely moving a muscle past their heavy breathing. Willis's erection began to shrank as SCP-1991's vagina instinctively tightened to milk whatever seed still remained in his urethra. He slowly guided it out, resting it beside her pelvis; once removed, his seed spilled forth, the white fluid having filled her quite well. She buried into him even more, clearly wanting nothing more than to cuddle.

Patrick was of the same mind.


	4. Bird Fucking

_Damn, I need to bust a nut,_ Damon noted.  
It was just another routine day at Site-69 up until that point. Though his job entailed ensuring the security and protection of the staff from the dangerous anomalies within the facility, it was the easiest job on Earth; Site-69 held some of the safest items in the Foundation, the short stay of SCP-939 instances being the only actual threats the facility would end up seeing. The most work he would end ever up doing is looking tough whenever someone important came to the facility; most of the time, he simply lounged at his post, reading a book. But now, he was much too horny to read about the functionings of an ideal free market.

He was about to head to the bathroom to bust a nut when he heard scratching on the other side of the wall he was resting on. It was SCP-1849, the creature he was assigned to "guard"; the bothersome bird would occasionally try and get his attention by doing this routine, though was only ever a mild annoyance. New, darker ideas, however, bubbled in his mind. It was imprinted on humans, and indeed would frequently present itself to people, even the janitors that were brought in for cleaning. He, of course, had never needed to even look in the chamber; what Chaos grunt would shoot their way to it of any anomaly? However, he had clearance to go in, so if he wanted...

He was startled by a loud feminine moan, followed by another. He pressed his ear onto the wall behind him as a third reverberated through; it was definitely SCP-1849. The moans were the encouragement he needed; they were simply too hot to not be the one behind them. He threw off his shirt as he walked through the hallway just in front of the chamber. The observation glass had been tinted black, preventing him from looking in; rather than ruin the surprise and get a look, he instead took out his keycard and opened the door. The chamber inside was covered with sheets of newsprint, the room itself being dominated by a two-meter wide nest made from errant branches. Sitting and facing the rear wall was SCP-1849: a green ostrich-like bird that had a bit of a humanoid edge to it, but was still decidedly avian. It looked at him for a moment before standing up, approaching him with haste. It rubbed its head on its arm for a moment before it turned around, exposing its genitals. The creature had a pretty decent ass and apparent boobs, both surprising him. Damon groaned at how delicious the holes looked.

"Wait, aren't birds supposed to have a cloaca or whatever?" SCP-1849 said in his voice. He took a second glance: there were two holes, clearly a vagina and an asshole, both the same dark color as its skin. They both looked tantalizing, but which one did he want?

"Oh, she's dripping wet," the bird parroted once again, Damon crouching down a bit to worm a couple fingers inside. It felt... strange. Though it felt like a vagina, it was just a bit different; he couldn't place exactly what was off, however. He moved his hand a bit higher, circling a finger around her anus before pressing in, SCP-1849 making a small perplexed squawk as he pushed the finger in. It was extremely tight and fairly warm. He moved the finger around a bit, intrigued by the texture; it was clearly unspoiled. Decisions, decisions...

He made up his mind. He unlatched his belt and dropped his pants and boxers both at once, exposing his fleshy member. 1849 looked back, making a small cooing noise as it eyed his phallus. He pressed the tip on her rosebud, the hole twitching with anticipation.

"Don't say I never did anything for ya," it recited, still having plenty of fun reading his thoughts. He pressed in, basking in the heat and tightness of her back door.

"Hooooly fuck," it groaned for the both of them. Damon wasted no time; for as much as he wanted to savor the feeling of this splendid ass, his desire to defile it was greater, and he began to buck his hips, fucking the bird's tight ass. It pushed back onto him with vigor, relishing in having a fuckbuddy at long last. Its eyes rolled back, awash with lust. Its pussy was gushing fluid; Damon moved his right hand onto its torso, holding it as he fucked it, and his left into its vagina, fingering it with vigor.

"Faster!" it yelled in an almost-familiar female voice. "Probably someone else getting fucked," it continued, returning to Damon's voice as it echoed his conclusion. Regardless, he obliged it, working his glutes as he pounded it. He felt its torso a bit while he pounded it hard; its feathers were quite plush, and were nice to rub and pet. Affection could come later; anal pummeling was the current event on the docket. Its anus, though still tight, had stretched out enough to accommodate his member, now letting the unique texture of the hole do all the work. It was smooth, yet had definite friction as to feel immensely pleasurable, like a designer's fucktoy.

"I bet it'd love to be a fucktoy," it parroted. It was true; the bending of its hips, its struggle to even hold up its head, its faucet-like pussy, and its erratic vocalizations were all the makings of something that wanted to be fucked all day. That was probably why the containment procedures had such a hard-on for making sure there weren't any attachments; the O5 would certainly hate for one of their contained anomalies to become the willing cocksleeve of every guy in the Foundation. He felt a need to go faster; he removed his hand from her twat and grabbed her sides tightly as he went as fast as he could. He was getting close to cumming, and he wanted to give it its money's worth before then.

"Cum in me, baby!" 1849 screamed in the female voice from before, more a command than a plea from the heat of the moment (at least not its own). He had no doubts in his mind: this bird ass was going to get creamed. He made his last few series of breakneck thrusts before he dove into it one last time as he came.

"Ooooh yeah," Damon moaned, the sweet sensation of desecrating a pristine hole washing over him as his cum shot into it. His cock kept pumping, stuffing its ass to the brim with his seed. His balls were not fully-spent as he pulled out, a rope of two splattering onto its back. Jism poured from the ruined dark hole, glazing its pussy as it dripped onto the floor. It slowly turned around to face him, rubbing its head on his chest as he rubbed its head. It clearly had no desire to clean itself as it head towards the door, turning back and eyeing him seductively, letting him admire his handiwork one more time as it left the chamber.

"Isn't that a containment breach?" it said as it was leaving, echoing Damon's thought; interestingly, it modulated the tone from what Damon was thinking, giving the statement a flirtatious edge. Damon wasn't concerned; he still felt a bit horny. He lazily threw his pants back on, abandoning his belt, as he set out to explore the facility.


	5. Open Season On Chimera Coochie

This had been a bit of a rough week for Conrad. 

Each and every day had been swamped with paperwork; SCP-1972-A's transfer to Site-69 was an experiment to see how the two of them would react to it and SCP-1972-B being separated, which bore its own mountains of paperwork, which became even higher following SCP-1972-B trashing its cell at Site-23 before suddenly becoming inert. Conrad would have loved to blow off some steam by making love with his wife, but was never in the mood for sex when he asked. It was annoying, sure, and he was very pent-up, but he still loved her; he got used to her low libido a long time ago, though his high sex drive still remained a factor. On a couple of weeks like this one, he had even considered some one-off hookups, though he never followed through with such ideas, fearing jeopardizing his marriage.

That was, until, his libido hit him with a two-by-four. Even trying to sign a few papers was a near-impossible task, his urges practically screaming to be resolved. This was beyond regular lust: this was a primal need. He was barely even paying attention to his actions as he grabbed his keycard and stormed to SCP-1972-A's chamber door. His judgment had abandoned him, recognizing his needs and electing to take the sidelines. The door opened to reveal her, sprawled out on her plush bed, sex toys scattered haphazardly around the room. To his surprise and great arousal, she was in desperate need for release as well; she had one of her appendages fucking herself with a dildo and two more rubbing her ample breasts. However, it was very clear her lust wasn't being eased in the slightest, evident by the frustration in her face. She needed a more human touch.

She noticed Conrad in the doorway, ogling her. Surprised, she scrunched up a bit, hastily removing her dildo, placing it beside her, and letting go of her teats.

"O-oh, Monsiuer Hayes," she stammered in her joual French accent. "You've caught me in a moment of weakness."

He moved towards her slowly, taking a good look of her body. Even despite her alien form and anomalous effect for her not to come off as disturbing, she was incredibly sexy, having the perfect proportions of waist, hips, and ass to put A-list pornstars to shame. Standing directly behind her, he placed one hand on her rump, groping the big fleshy mass, using the other to pick up the dildo that she was employing, inspecting the soaked piece of silicone. He stared into her eyes, building up a scenario in his head.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, SCP-1972-A," he began his teasing routine, emphasizing every letter and number, even pronouncing the dashes. "These aren't anywhere in your containment procedures. You have no excuse to be having these," he went on, using a corny disappointed tone.

"I-I'm terribly sorry, Monsieur... I had to pull some strings to get them for when I got a bit pent-up," she atoned, false sorrow in her voice. She was playing along, and wonderfully so.

"Are you trying to say your libido is such a problem you'd manipulate our good staff for toys?" he inquired with a clinical tone, half-sincerely and half-flirting.

"N-not always, but it's never been this... distracting before," she replied. <em>We're in the exact same predicament,</em> Conrad realized. Continuing the game, he slapped her ass, causing her to gasp with surprise.  
"Well, you never came off to me as a bad girl, but in light of what you're telling me..." he began, rubbing her butt as he tossed the dildo away.

"I beg of you, Monsiuer, please be merciful! It won't happen again, I swear!" she pleaded, her acting betraying her arousal.

"Sorry, but The Foundation is stern with its punishments --" he coyly spanked 1972 again, a staccato moan escaping her -- "and we have no tolerance for misbehavior," he chided. His libido could sustain no further teasing; he was going down on her.

He knelt down, pressing his mouth into her moist pussy. She groaned loudly as his tongue tasted and explored every inch of her. She was delectable and a little bit sweet, her honeyed juices a treat for the tongue. Awash with lust from being eaten out, she used several appendages to strip Conrad, taking off every article of clothing slowly and sensually, first his jacket and shirt, rubbing her tentacles across his chest. She then moved them down to his lower half: she unfastened his belt, working a couple tentacles into his pants as she glided them off, gripping his full-mast rod through his clothes. Fully-stripped, she began to jerk him off, using two limbs' worth of tentacles to do so. She had a strong, yet pleasant grip, and her tentacles subtly vibrated, making for a very satisfying handjob.

Conrad moved his tongue around faster, suckling up her juices decadently. She gripped the bedsheets tightly, struggling to stifle moans as she panted. 

« Ah, magnifique ! » she yelled. The heat in the room was almost unbearable, despite being fully-nude. His cock hungered for her, the mind assured at the quality of her product. He stopped his cunnilingus and stood up, staring into her eyes again.

"Roll over onto your back," he requested, still using a domineering tone. She quietly obliged, staring at his shaft as Conrad adjusted it to hover just before her vagina. Her eyes lit up with desire.

« M-Monsieur Hayes... s'il vous plaît... Je dois l'avoir... » she begged. Understanding none of what she said, he realized he had the perfect opportunity to tease her some more as he smirked.

"Oh, sorry, what was that? I'm afraid I didn't understand you," he replied.

« Ne me taquinez pas; nique-moé ! » she implored; regardless of her tongue, her tone expressed she was loving this little game.

"Sorry, could I get that in English? My French is quite lacking," he requested.

"Fuck me! I need your dick!" she screamed.

He shrugged, smiling. "Well, if you insist," he deadpanned. He sharply thrusted into her twat, hilting himself in one go, 1972-A moaning loudly. He left his cock buried in her for a moment, relishing the feeling of her twat. He started to fuck her, going slowly for a moment before jumping into a quick pace. Her coochie was the perfect balance of tight and fuckable, not to mention the texture which bore a je ne sais quoi of excellence. Her wetness caused his cock to slick through her, making delicious squishing noises whenever he thrusted in hard enough. Her several tentacles were split between gripping either the bed or his butt, squeezing both fairly tightly.

« J'adore ta graine, chéri ! » she blared. He started fucking even faster, inspired by her sudden outburst. Her pussy was the stuff of legends, getting only better as he pounded her, its feel besting even the finest of silks. Finding a good pace to rest at for a moment, he decided to throw out a little bit more dirty talk.

"You're a real slut, you know that?" he sassed. "Used to taking eight guys at once, and here you are, wasting away at my single cock!"

« Oui, chuis une petite guidoune ! » she blurted in response. Conrad took that as an affirmation as he pounded her even harder. This was the break he needed; despite the overwhelming pleasure, his head felt much clearer, each moan of her's counteracting the stress of ten piles of paper. 1972-A, too, looked as if a weight was lifted from her shoulders.

He started to near orgasm. His balls were churning, preparing to release in full force.

"I'm gonna cum soon, babe!" Conrad shouted.

"Ah -- cum in me!" she begged. « J'ai besoin d'ton foutre ! » she continued in French. 1972-A was melted into the mattress, overwhelmed with ecstasy. Conrad leaned in, kissing her. She was caught off-guard for a moment before she returned it, their tongues dancing as she held him close using a couple spare tentacles' worth of limbs. 

With one final, mighty thrust, he exploded inside of her, the two of them still locking lips. They both shared staggered moans as he shot white-hot sperm deep into her, drowning her womb in spunk. This was the release Conrad so desperately needed; a week of stress and blue balls disappeared in an instant, his plentiful seed pouring from her cunny and soiling the bedsheets underneath. Firing the last of his seed, broke the kiss as he slowly pulled out of her, intent on savoring the experience. Once decoupled, the comical scale of the creampie came clear as his jizz streamed from her gash.

Fuck, did he need that.

* * *

Conrad was completely spent. The two of them still panting, he crawled onto the soft bed, laying beside her. She wrapped a few limbs around him, cuddling him. He just now noticed how incredibly soft her fur was, and how pleasing it was to embrace her.

  
"Félicitations, Monsiuer Hayes, you're my new favorite client," she joked, the two of them laughing in unison.

  
"But seriously, that was incredible," she went on, now speaking sincerely. "Merci beaucoup; I needed that so badly."

  
"No, thank you," Conrad insisted. "I've needed a good fuck all week."

  
"Wife problems?" she inquired. Conrad had enough trust in her to answer her question.

  
"Kinda? She doesn't have much of a libido, meanwhile sex is my favorite method of unwinding, as you've seen," he confided. "I love her dearly, but my sex drive is always a bit too much for her to handle is all."

  
"Well," she enunciated. "Jessica here'll gladly help you get off... if you need my expertise, of course," she purred, tapping his cum-stained penis a couple more times.

  
"My bosses wouldn't be fond of that idea."

  
"Get them in a room with me, and I can surely change their minds," she retorted, the two of them laughing again. They cuddled together in silence for a minute before Conrad spoke up.

  
"Y'know..." he began.

"Hmm?" she intonated.

  
"Your bed is nicer than mine," he stated, quite comfortable on the plush sheets and deluxe mattress. She giggled fervently.

  
"If you're asking for a nap, I'd be happy to be here with you," she offered.

  
"Yeah, that sounds nice," he affirmed. "And, after this, I have an idea."

  
"What's up?" she inquired.

  
"Let's go out and see what trouble we can find," he posited. She made a brief, lecherous chuckle.

  
"That's a good idea, Monsiuer --"

  
"Conrad. Call me Conrad," he insisted, cutting her off.

  
"That's a good idea, Conrad," she finished. She nestled into his chest as the two dozed off in each-other's grasp.


	6. For a real good time call

Megan rushed through the bathroom door, standing in front of one of the sinks, looking at her reflection in the mirror. Something very strange was going on; just a couple minutes ago she was still half-awake and was going to get a cup of coffee, and now she was unbelievably horny. She stuck a hand down her pants, feeling her soaked panties and vagina. She didn't dare bring any of her toys to work, so her fingers alone would have to suffice for dealing with this. She eyed one of the stalls in order to get a bit of privacy when she noticed graffiti on one of the stall doors:

For a good time call: 092-791-697-518-6

She scratched her head a couple times as she read it over a couple times. She almost recognized the number, though she couldn't remember which anomaly it was in specific. However, a very dirty idea popped in her head: what if the creature on the other side could help her with her "problem"? As soon as the idea came, she found it impossible to clear from her mind. She reached into her purse, pulling out her phone. She tapped in the bizarre phone number, looked back at the graffiti to make sure she put it in correctly, and then called.

Her phone dialed once, twice, thrice, then four times.

"We're sorry, but this number is not available," her phone said before hanging up automatically.

_Well, that's a shame, _Megan thought, placing her phone back in and heading towards one of the stalls for a little bit of --__

____

Suddenly, a creature appeared before her, an anthropomorphic owl with three legs and matte-colored tentacles coming out of her back. She was fully-nude, with perky breasts and a tantalizing cooch. She looked like a proper morsel, and she realized what anomaly she had summoned.

____

"SCP-2703-1," she blurted, still eyeing her nethers. 2703-1 coughed, causing Megan to change her glance to be looking at her in the eyes.

____

"Greetings," 2703-1 sang in a cheerful tone. "Just who am I having the pleasure of meeting?" 

____

"I'm Megan," she responded casually. Megan realized that repeating the anomaly's name over and over would be annoying; she had to think of a name on the spot. "Would you mind if I called you Rachel?" Megan inquired. It was a pointless question, given the anomaly's functions, but it was the polite thing to do.

____

"Of course," Rachel replied with a smile. "Now, what sort of affairs would you like for us to do together?" she asked, the innuendo apparently lost on her. "My schedule has been empty all day; we seem to be underground, so if you had a destination in mind..."

____

Her train of thought was cut off as Megan approached her, eyeing her hungrily.

____

"I've got an idea in mind, and we don't have to go anywhere," she flirted. Rachel blushed as Megan began to rub her shoulders and sides. Her feathers were quite soft, and very pleasing to rub... likely even more pleasing pressed into her. 

____

"I... don't understand?" Rachel inflected. Prompted by this, Megan moved her hands to her breasts, fondling them; Rachel managed suppressed a few moans. The usually-cool bathroom felt exceedingly hot.  
"Are you sure? Maybe I should give you a clearer message," Megan cooed. One of her hands hovered just before Rachel's vagina, brushing it a couple times with her hand before sticking a couple fingers in. Her fingers were quickly drenched in her juices.

____

"My, my, you're dripping wet, Rachel," Megan teased. "I think that's a clear a sign as any what we should do..." Rachel couldn't play dumb any longer. 

____

Rachel's tentacles suddenly became active, quickly stripping Megan's coat and shirt, rubbing her breasts for a few moments before pulling off her jeans and panties. The two of them now nude, Megan leaned in for a kiss, lips and beak interlocking. Rachel's green tentacle went down towards Megan's crotch, rubbing her cleanly-shaven pussy, the two of them moaning as they kissed. Megan continued her fingerfuck, occasionally stopping to stretch out Rachel's snatch with her two fingers. After a bit of appendage-based action, Megan broke the kiss and moved back a little bit.

____

"Lay down for me, sweetie; I just have to taste you," Megan commanded. Rachel, enamored with the prospect, quickly laid on the floor, legs spread, staring at her with anticipation. Megan got on all-fours, crawling towards her, making a small growl as she got close. Rachel made a small giggle, an equal mix of amusement and enticement; her giggles turned into moaning as Megan bent down, licking her feathery muff. Oh, was the taste so nice; it was the perfect balance of fleshy, moist, and sweet, and her squirming against her tongue was nice as well.

____

"I'm not letting you do all the work, dear!" Rachel blared, voice heavy with pleasure. Megan felt a tentacle press at her vagina before it pushed into her. Megan groaned at the phallic object now fucking her; it was very smooth and a well-balanced size, large enough to be pleasurable though not too large as to be distracting. Megan dove a couple fingers into Rachel's snatch, now transitioning to full pussy-eating with simultaneous finger-fucking. Rachel was screaming with ecstasy at this point, barely concentrating on her tentacle-fucking of Megan.

____

"Fucking--fuck!" Rachel suddenly screeched as she stretched out as far as she could. Her sugar walls spasmed erratically on Megan's tongue and fingers as she was wracked with orgasm. Her orgasm continued for almost twenty seconds, with Megan not letting up on pleasing her the whole time, squirming and moaning from euphoria. As her contractions concluded, she panted heavily. Megan crawled onto her chest, laying down on her, their pussies rubbing each other. Megan's theory from earlier was correct: her chest feathers were unbelievably nice on her nude body.

____

"Pleasure to be of service, but I'm still in a bit of need here," Megan declared. She picked up the pace of her tribbing a little bit, energy and lust resurging in Rachel. "How well can you use those tentacles of yours?" Megan inquired.  
"Would you like me to show you?" Rachel returned, now flirty. She hovered a tentacle at the front of the cavern where their pussies met, and one at the entrances of both of their assholes, the two anal probes poking at them.  
"Be my guest," Megan approved. Instantly, a tentacle intercepted their pussies, the two ladies now rubbing against it as well as each other, and the other two plunged into their asses. 

____

"Oh fuck, that's good!" Megan gasped. The tentacles started fucking both of them at a steady pace, going fairly deep into the them. Megan was swamped with pleasure, her continued tribbing now mere instinct rather than a conscious action. Rachel, too, was back to reeling in ecstasy, breathing heavily. Megan felt another tentacle suddenly dive into her pink as the tentacles started pounding them faster. The excitement was intense; each of her holes were tingling with pleasure, made even more powerful with the appendage and pussy she was grinding on. A great pressure was building within her womb as she neared climax.

____

Without warning, Megan kissed her again. Her avian tongue was the catalyst that she needed; almost immediately after, mighty pulses of bliss wracked her body as Rachel's tentacles continued to pound her, Megan ceasing her tribbing from sheer elation. She wrapped her arms around her feathered body, squeezing her as she rode out her climax. The tentacles ceased their pounding and retracted from her holes and from between their vaginas. They broke their kiss one final time as Megan's orgasm finished, burying her face in Rachel's neck, the two of them exhausted. Rachel returned the embrace, wrapping her sullied tentacles around her.

____

* * *

____

Megan was immensely satisfied following her climax, and incredibly happy in the arms of her owl lover. Rachel was clearly pleased as well, clear from the look in her golden eyes. It was then that a revelation struck Megan: she was straight. For the twenty-eight years she had been on this Earth, not a single day of them did she have any attraction she had towards women; yet here she was, cuddling with a female three-legged owl, having just fucked her and liking it...

____

Megan decided to break the silence, electing to worry about any conflicts with her sexuality later. "That's a huge weight off my shoulders," she declared.

____

  
"Well, I promised a good time," Rachel retorted, giggling. She was so cute; Megan couldn't help but break a smile. Megan tapped her side a couple of times, indicating she wanted to be let go of; Rachel obliged, and Megan crawled off of her, sitting down by her side. Megan started to feel hot again.

____

  
"Let me run an idea by you, Rachel," Megan requested.

____

"Shoot."

____

"So, right now we're in a facility full of horny guys and gals. Wanna go and..."

____

  
"Please as many as we can? Sounds like a good time," Rachel finished for her.

____

  
The two shared a salacious grin as they got up and head out for some new scores.

____


	7. Last-Ditch Effort

Site-69 was going to Hell in a handbasket.

Kurt had just finished his lunch and was heading down to the server room to perform some routine maintenance as it started. The facility became uncomfortably hot, though none of the thermostats showed any change in temperature; many started to strip outside of regulations to assuage the heat. Then people started getting frisky; they were randomly going around feeling up whoever passed by them, most reciprocating their advances in kind. He knew the facility was in trouble when all the doors opened, revealing people fucking in the hallways, only encouraging more people to start tossing off their clothes and start screwing. Kurt, too, was a victim of whatever was going on; he was profoundly horny, especially strange since he never considered himself a sex-motivated person, and he couldn't help but stare and want to join in whenever people started coupling up.

Kurt had ran all the way to the server room to avoid getting engulfed by the fires of lust sweeping across the facility. Alone in the shadowy room, he hooked up his datapad to diagnose the problem. As he expected, all communications out of the facility were being jammed by... something. Every test packet he sent out simply stalled with no reasonable explanation, though never timed out. While running diagnostics, he quickly peeked into the employee records, finding his own:

"...server engineer at Site-69, maintaining communications and computer systems. Despite frequent scores of around ██.█ on PAR (Psychic Anomaly Resistance) tests, he has frequently declined the opportunity to become an MTF operative, content with his present occupation; he has not been pressed into such service, as knowledgeable IT specialists that are resistant to cognitohazards and memetic agents are difficult to come by and maintain. Horny."

That last sentence was likely the anomaly, given how weird it was. Using a text editor, he deleted the anomalous text; upon saving the document and re-opening it, the text returned. He didn't expect it to be that easily-removed, but it was worth a shot.

He checked the containment file for another person; one "Katherine Barrett" caught her eye:

"...graduated with a Master's in Biological Sciences from Columbia University. Horny. She is presently assigned to SCP-939 under the leadership of Dr..."

Rather than check another personnel file, he instead opened a random anomaly file, specifically SCP-1849's:

"SCP-1849 will eat nearly anything, but prefers fresh fruits and vegetables, as well as dried meats. Horny. Subject also likes alcohol..."

 _So it affects other anomalies as well?_ The implications were troubling. He did a quick tally of all of its unique occurrences. As he read the total count, his jaw dropped: 198 total infected, including 7 anomalies. Some quick mental math left only six people and two anomalies unaffected. He grabbed his pen and wrote that down, if only for when the MTF came in to clean up the place.

As he glanced back to his main datapad, at the corner of his eye, peering around the corner past a computer stack, stood a tall canine-like creature, all-black with long, black hair, its head more akin to a skull, which bore two ghastly white eyes which were staring into him. Needless to say, the creature scared him shitless when he saw it.

"Fuck!" he shouted, feeling around him to find something that could be used as a weapon that he wouldn't regret breaking later.

"SOrRy, DiDn'T MeAn tO ScArE YOu!" it piped, its voice glitchy and distorted as if it were speaking through a broken synthesizer. It held its paws up, keeping its distance from him.

Kurt managed to calm down, primarily since it announced its presence and didn't just kill him instantly. "What the fuck are you?" he demanded.

"OH? dO YOu NOt ReCOgNiZe mE?" it retorted. It read his face, and realized it asked a stupid question. "I'M MalO!!" it finally answered, giddiness abundant in its robotic voice.  
_MalO, MalO, MalO,_ Kurt repeated in his head. The name clicked. "One sec." He grabbed his datapad again, opening the file for SCP-1471:

"During the first 24 hours following the installation of SCP-1471, the mobile device will receive images taken at locations commonly frequented by the individual. Horny. After 48 hours, the mobile device will receive images..."

This situation stopped making any sense to him; SCP-1471-A isn't supposed to have a physical form, yet it's definitely there, though acting completely differently. For starters, it shouldn't be able to talk --

He looked up to see it approaching him cautiously. Under better lighting, he could make out its details... its very sexy details. It had voluptuous hips that carried a large butt which jiggled with every step, her bosom bore expertly-crafted D-cup breasts, and down toward her nethers was a puffy canine vagina. She was hot, the temperature rising with her very presence. He knew exactly what she wanted. Kurt shook his head; he needed to focus, the site was depending on him! If he tried running the packets through one of the emergency satellites --

"WhAt'S WrOnG? YOu SeEm a LitTle PeNt-UP," she flirted, getting on all-fours and crawling towards him. She groped his penis through his pants, noting the size of the bulge underneath. Kurt gave no resistance. He didn't really want to, despite the circumstances. She smoothly unbuckled his belt and unfastened his jeans, pulling his pants down and off of him. She reached a paw down into the fly, getting a feel for his large member. He squirmed under her caressing grip.

"Oh, I'lL TaKe GOOd CaRe Of ThIs," she vowed. She handled his shaft through the fly and out into the air. The "ooh" she made expressed quite clearly how impressed she was with its size.  
"F-f-fuck, go easy on me, trying to work here!" Kurt requested with a lust-induced stutter.

"I'Ll tHiNk aBOuT iT," she teased. She brought both of her breasts around his cock. Her fur was soft like cashmere. He was getting too excited to focus.

"W-wait, you're a dog, aren't you supposed to have more nipples or something?" he inquired, trying to use logic to get a hold of himself.

She didn't respond, instead starting to move her breasts up and down his shaft, a furry and immensely-pleasurable titfuck. Shivers were shooting like lightning up and down his spine. Fuck, he wouldn't be able to concentrate; he was enjoy this too much...

It became even harder to focus as MalO started licked his phallus on occasion. Despite her bony head, her tongue was fully-fleshy and velvety in texture. He had to find a seam before he was lost; a glance at his datapad showed no luck with the satellites. Maybe try via radio...?

"LeTs tAKe THIs FuRtHeR, SHalL wE?" she prompted as she freed his phallus from the grasps of her pillowy tits and crawled into his lap. She sat upon her legs, teasing the tip of his eight-inch shaft on her wolfpussy. Oh God, she was really going to put it in; as he reached to grab his datapad or really any sort of distraction, she grabbed his wrists, pushing his arms down as he lay back on the floor.

"GeT reADY FOr thE RODeO, COwbOY!" she proclaimed as she pressed down onto his ample dick.

"Oooooh my God," Kurt moaned as he melted. She was incredibly tight, deliciously warm, and felt squishy inside. Her vulva pulsed sporadically as he went deeper into her.

Why resist? This pussy was just too good.

As MalO let go of his arms, he groped her soft booty, squeezing her plush cheeks as she rode him. This "Horny." agent could kill him after this and he wouldn't care; being able to score cunny this good would be worth the ultimate price.

MalO, emboldened by Kurt now being fully immersed in the sex, started to buck her hips, intent on giving him the time of his life. She was loving it as well, her tongue was hanging out of her skeletal maw, flapping in the air as she bounced up and down on his pogo stick. His entire body was on fire with passion. This was what he was missing out on all this time? Why didn't he just go down on her sooner? He felt just a little bit silly, but mostly stimulated with pleasure.

He felt a pressure grow towards the base of his rod. He was getting ready to cum, to line this anomalous pooch's walls with his repressed seed. She started going faster, the heat of her tunnel becoming hotter and hotter.

"Not-- gonna, last much longer!" he managed to say through impassioned moans.

"YOu BeTTeR BreEd mE GOOD, StuD!" MalO barked in response. He wasn't about to led her down.

Instinctively, Kurt grabbed her handlebars, aiding her frenzied riding as best he could in those final blissful moments. "Hnng--cumming!" he blurted as she pressed down onto his pelvis one last time.

His cock erupted. The sheer euphoria was too great to fully comprehend; he felt every muscle in his body loosen with ecstasy. He couldn't help but keep jizzing; MalO's wolf pussy twitched and shivered with each rope that was fired into her womb. His sperm was overflowing her as streams of spunk spilled forth onto his chest and to the metal ground beneath them. Finally, after almost a dozen releases, his balls were spent. He could still feel them tingling, rearing for more. MalO was breathing wearily. She lifted herself off of him. His now-limp cock fell from her tight snatch and onto his chest with a distinctive slap, both it and the hole it filled colored white from spooge. She rolled onto the ground next to him, laying down and resting her head on his chest.

* * *

He kissed MalO on the snout. It was bony and a little bit chalky, but not unsatisfying. She made a small purr as the two huddled together.

"nICe WOrk, pArDNeR," she joked, mixing a drawl into her robotic voice, putting a proud grin on Kurt's face. "HOw'D yOu LiKE yOuR FIRst RiDE ON tHe WilD SIdE?" she inquired.

"That was my first time at all," he replied, shrinking a little at the realization. "But fuck, that was good!" he exclaimed, feeling better immediately afterwards, the experience plenty fresh.

"YOu gOt me tO CUm; aS far As I'm cOnCERNeD, yOu'RE a pRO!" she flattered, trying only a bit too hard to cheer him up.

Strangely enough, despite having the nut of his life, he still felt horny. Very much so, in fact. A surge of energy jolted through him as he got up, MalO lifting her head to allow him to do so.  
"WhErE aRE yOu gOInG?" she asked, a bit disappointed in not having a bit more cuddle time.

"Back to the cafeteria," he answered. "I'm in the mood for some real excitement," he added with a sly grin. MalO smirked as well; her cowboy was off to the races.

Wait, didn't he have to work to do? It completely escaped his mind, yet once it came back he had no desire to go back to it. He had the heat of the moment to live up to.

"HaVE FuN!!" she beamed. He most certainly would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This reaches the end of the original publication; technically, the past seven chapters were simply Chapter 1 (out of planned three). This project is currently on indefinite hiatus due to waned interest, though I may continue it at some point in the future.


End file.
